

What Viewers Are Saying:
“Overall, the experience [of (un)seen] was powerful and a deep reminder of how the power of imagery and words can speak on their own without the need of an interpreter. I really enjoyed how each of the artists’ themes was creatively woven together to make a powerful statement around human value and worth.” – Sam Williams, Executive Director, Concord Prison Outreach
Read Sam’s poem, Social Curators, inspired by (un)seen by clicking here.
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“The conversations with and between Keith, Rashin, Steve and I are a long-awaited antidote to the unimaginable personal and collective grief we have experienced during the racial and global health pandemics of the last year.
Keith’s paintings confront the layers of trauma that exist in the North American landscape, pockmarked by lynching. Unlike other historic tragedies for now, Keith’s work is often the only gesture memorializing the places and honors the victims with a simultaneous monument to color and a keen attention to the play of light. Where Keith confronts the past, Steve interrogates the present in his photographs of penitentiaries. The aura of the nighttime palette creates an elusive visual description. In one of Steve’s images, it is difficult to reconcile how a perspective from quite a distance can still be so powerfully charged. Perhaps the distance, the darkness and the walls still cannot contain the experiences that want our notice.
Rashin adds a layer of tenderness to our conversation. Her work reminds us of the power of storytelling and of a shared longing for connection in the Father’s Lullaby. Rashin suspends time to create unapologetically, intimate grace filled sound and visual portraits. She also places a mirror on the racial disparities in the criminal justice system that echo Keith and Steve’s observations. This is a history that seems to repeat on command.
I entered this conversation in early April when rather than writing for this exhibit, Keith asked if I wanted to make work for the show. In the aftermath of the murders in Atlanta of eight women, six of Asian descent, I grasped more fully my hyper invisibility as an Asian American woman of Filipino ancestry. It did not matter my level of education, my status as a U.S. citizen, my job, my being a mother, a partner, a sister, or a friend. I am (un)seen.
My work is to walk the grounds of this grief. I have created a drawing pilgrimage to accompany and acknowledge this shattering. I excavate a layer below the surface of Keith and Steve’s landscapes. And I hear the songs from Rashin’s portraits as I dig deeper. Perhaps underlying all of our questions is a search to make sense of a mourning. Ross Gay captures the sentiment of this conversation for me.
What if we joined our sorrows, I’m saying.
I’m saying: What if that is joy?”
– Lyssa Palu-ay


